A loss in our family

Phyllis Kathleen Ilwina Fairfoot Gillespie Marshall.

If I haven’t remembered it correctly, forgive me, as it’s been a long time since I last heard Auntie Phyl proudly rattle off her name. Now, I won’t get to hear her say it again, as she died at 3am on Christmas morning. At the age of 84 she had still not lost her gift of impeccable timing.

Auntie Phyl came into our family by marrying my mother’s brother and my uncle, Keith. Early memories include visiting their Suva Point house in Fiji. What a huge place that was for us kids. My brother and I spent a lot of time playing in the back room while the adults talked, and I can remember gazing out the window at the circular garden in the back yard. It was a place of mystery and magic, that big round garden with its tall bushes.

I also remember the day when I was eating a chicken leg, and Lisa, their German Shepherd, jumped up and stole it out of my hand. Before I could protest my innocence, I was told off for feeding chicken bones to the dog. I held my silence, but there you go, Auntie Phyl, now you know the truth – Lisa took it from me!

Phyllis is the only person I know who has flown from Taveuni to Suva with a bucket, containing water and goldfish, wedged between her feet in the cabin. Try doing that today!

When Dad was convenor of the Fiji Trade Show, Auntie Phyl was his secretary/assistant. With glee, Dad used to tell us about how he paged her over the show’s PA system and requested that she head over to the show-jumping arena to pick up the horse poo!

When we moved to New Zealand, we joined the rest of our family who had made the move away from Fiji before us. The first Christmas in 1976 was spent in Auckland and Auntie Phyl gave white T-Shirts advertising Sea & Ski Suntan lotion to the whole family. When we walked into the Waiwera Hot Pools fo a day of swimming and BBQ and all wearing our shirts, we had people coming up to us and asking if we were part of a team!

Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties were big family events, and we had so much fun. Apollo Street in Tauranga was the time of Saturday Night Fever, and we all danced the John Travolta number which, because of one of the actions, became known to us as the “picking up coconuts” dance. Auntie Phyl would be up with us, embellishing the dance with a few new actions of her own.

One of the times that Owen and Decie Glenn joined us will forever be remembered as the dinner party where Mrs Glenn wore a white bra under her black blouse. When we got the photos back, we could see that the camera flash had penetrated the thin fabric of the blouse and Mrs Glenn’s voluptuous bra could be clearly seen! I can still hear Auntie Phyl’s peal of laughter when she saw those photos!

Our move to Whitaker Street to a bigger house with a pool meant that even more fun could be had. My Space Age 21st party had Auntie Phyl in a mini dress with leggings. I can still remember one of the photos taken of her where she has struck a pose with one arm raised above her head, and the mini skirt also rising up her legs.

Charades was a popular game after dinner with the family divided into 2 groups to act out books, movies and plays. Phyllis took to it with gusto and one particular performance produced a lifetime memory. Her title to act out was “She came in through the bathroom window”. Going out onto the verandah, and using the verandah door as a prop, she stuck one leg into the lounge and waved it around in the air. Because it was dark outside, we couldn’t see the rest of her body, so it appeared as if the leg was acting on its own. Between tears and howls of laughter, we took stabs at what she was trying to do, with neighbours walking past chipping in with suggestions of their own, such as “It’s a giraffe! No, it’s a chicken!” We never did guess what she was trying to tell us.

When work took me to Auckland, I sometimes stayed with Auntie Phyl in her Lake Road house. We would eat dinner, chat and watch TV, often accompanied by a whisky or a gin - or two. Coronation Street could not be missed. Her home was always open to us, and we were welcomed and spoiled whenever we visited. It was the venue for many family gatherings.

When she got together with Mum and Auntie Connie, it was inevitable that the conversation would soon turn to India. Such a defining time for their Marshall generation. The 3 sisters would sit; reminiscing in their clipped accents which were a legacy from so many years spent on the Asian sub-continent; cackling out loud at some of the funnier stories; regaling all within earshot. With quiet resignation, we “non-India” family members would endure the same tales retold countless times in verbatim, but always in such detail it was if they had happened yesterday. For me, times like this were special because we didn’t know when it would end, and inevitably there would come a time when Phyllis, Maureen and Connie could no longer sit together and tell us the India stories, and I would miss those moments.

That time has come. Change. Death. A loved family member no longer with us.

No longer will I hear her call me “love dove”.

As I sit on a sofa in a small town in the middle of Germany, half a planet’s distance from my side of our family, I recognise that, at times like these, the space between us may as well be to the moon and back. Phone calls and emails cannot replace being there. It’s easy to feel isolated, stranded and out of touch: a lack of connectedness with what’s going on at home.

It was exactly a year ago that I last saw Auntie Phyl. A quick trip back to NZ between Christmas and New Year in 2007 gave me 2 occasions when we were together and I was able to talk with her. How precious that time now feels.

10:30pm Monday night, Germany time, will be 12 hours behind Tuesday morning in New Zealand: when people will be coming together to farewell a friend, aunt, great-aunt, sister-in-law, mother, mother-in-law, grandmother and great-grandmother.

How can I best farewell my aunt when I’m on this side of the world and not able to be at her funeral?

There’s one way in which I know she will approve – with a big drink and a “Cheers!” to the best kofta curry chef that I’ve ever known!

Rikka-tik-tik Auntie Phyl.

Love always
M xoxo

Footnote: When one of my cousins rang my aunt's younger brother (Eugene) in the US to tell him about Auntie Phyl, we discovered that he had died 6 days earlier. I bet they were surprised to meet each other again so soon!

Season's Greetings

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Happy Hanukkah!
Hijri Greetings!

We're with J's family in Bad Karlshafen, Germany until the 3rd January, being fed so much that we feel like we're the turkeys being fattened for Christmas! Before we left Berlin, we visited some of the Christmas celebrations around the city.

Schloss Charlottenburg had a Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas Market) and illumination on the main Palace building.


There were lots of funfairs all over the city with Ferris Wheels of all sizes. This one was by the Berlin TV Tower which can be seen in the background of the following image.


The Linden Trees at Unter den Linden, just by the Brandenburg Gate, were decked out as per usual. It's a great sight but incredibly difficult to photograph well. I reckon that the best perspective would be from an above oblique angle.


The Sony Centre had the standard tree. The fully-lit building at the back belongs to Deutsche Bahn (German Railways) who appear to have money to burn as it always looks like this.


The Brandenburg Gate had a large tree beside it.


Season's Greetings to one and all.

Fleeting Beauty

Domiciled in Berlin for the past 4 months has meant that I'm experiencing my first real Summer to Autumn to Winter because, in the Southern Hemisphere places that I've lived in, this just doesn't happen with the same intensity.

Dog Lake through the trees

We've been on walks around one of the nearby lakes with our friends S&C who have 2 dogs that need regular exercise. This particular lake is a dog area, and thousands of dogs and owners converge on it during the weekend to run free and socialise. It's been quite beautiful in the afternoon.

Ciro (Chiro) pauses from retrieving sticks to enjoy the sunset

3pm sunset

We were graced with a visit by a beautiful butterfly who sadly didn't survive much longer after I took the photos, given the combination of cold weather and its naturally short life span. I was surprised that there were still butterflies around so late in the season.

Kaleidoscope Wings

The colours of autumn have been stunning and I've taken to a new sport which I call Power Photography. Run with a camera in my pocket; see something worth photographing; stop; power up the camera; fire off a couple of shots and carry on before my pulse rate drops by 10bpm. It's challenging!


We're also now faced with icy pathways on our exercise runs around Schloss Charlottenburg park - 'tis almost time to get out the skates.


Berlin has now seen the last of autumn, and winter fired a warning shot this week, with the first snowfalls of the season. Unfortunately, it didn't hang around for long. I really want it to snow heavily, and then I'll be sick of it equally fast, I'm sure!

The first fall didn't touch the ground before melting.

First snow for the season

The second heavier fall happened at about 1am last Sunday morning and was mostly gone 12 hours later, leaving slow-melting patches in park areas.

That's more like it!

We're ensconced in our friend H's apartment while she lives in Pakistan, but she's now back in Berlin for 3 weeks. It's been great getting to know her better, as my time with her up until now has never been for more than a couple of hours per visit. While J was in Dubai for 4 days closing down our business, H and I took to the streets for long walks in the cold.

Pigeon holed

Most of my travel around Berlin has been in the subways, but this time H suggested that we take a tourist bus tour which proved to be very interesting, and for me it was a time to get a good sense of the city's layout. I didn't get any photos on the trip, as taking blurry shots through glass in a moving bus just isn't my thing.


We did notice a lot of Christmas markets being set up, and hopefully there'll be a few images in the making when we visit these after they open this weekend. H is a fellow camera buff, so I have found an accomplice with whom to mount night attacks on photogenic places. Hopefully we'll get more images like these ones.

Watch this space - and pray for snow so that the images are more interesting!

Do not adjust your set

Yikes - who chose this colour combination for the tennis courts in Doha which hosted the women's WTA final event of the year?


I realise that they are Sony Ericsson's (major sponsor) colours, but still! My camera's sensor doesn't do justice to the real colour of the court - it's actually more purple than the image shows. The lime green shows ok.

I'd have to wear sunglasses to play there. It's a wonder that the ball doesn't get lost against the green, as they are similar in colour.

Shame that Serena Williams and Ana Ivanovic pulled out with injury and illness, but that's the way it goes. I wonder if they get to keep their substantial appearance fees?

Qatar Tennis Federation - your dismal website needs an overhaul.

Sony Ericsson - both of your websites here and here are better - at least all the links work. Anyway, what's with the two sites promoting the same events?

Quality Football

Having come from a Southern Hemisphere country where Rugby Union is the main sporting event, soccer has not been a game that I've followed with any sort of zeal. That is, apart from staying up with my mother into the early hours to watch the FA Cup Finals in the UK - a long time ago when they were still interesting and a rare corner kick pretty much guaranteed a goal.

Since being with J who is a football fanatic, by default I've become more interested in the sport - particularly after we were in Berlin during the 2006 World Cup fever, and now following the German Bundesliga since we're currently again ensconced in Deutschland.

We're bemused by the lack of quality play that we see from most of these teams of so-called professionals - especially the testosterone-charged, thoughtless and careless kicks aimed at the goals which miss by 10m or more.

Apart from showing the football, German TV is pretty dismal when it comes to showing other sport. The free Eurosport channel has been hellbent on showing endless re-runs of old snooker games, summer ski jumping or highlights of Valentino Rossi winning his 6th 500cc title and signing his helmet. During the Beijing Olympics, we were tormented with repetitive showings on 30 minute cycles of the same events - usually involving a German or European winner.

This week, we've seen a change and, to our delight, Eurosport has been showing games from the inaugural FIFA Under 17s Women's World Cup held in, of all places, New Zealand.

The quality of the matches has been superb. These young women can play. We've witnessed accurate passing, brilliant goal shooting and awesome set plays that would bring shame to most of the professional men's teams that seem incapable of training their star players to play in a team - instead of going for egoistic personal glory and failing to win matches.

This morning, we watched an extremely polished and highly skilled Japan team annihilate a favoured France 7-1 with some superb plays and exhilarating flair. Japan also downed the USA in pool play.


Germany is very strong with Forward Dzsenifer Marozsan leading the way with 4 goals for the tournament so far. Her first class crosses and corner kicks are incredibly accurate and beautifully struck.

It's been fun reading the German team blog. They love New Zealand, however they think that it's like the USA. The shopping is wonderful, the beach is great, but the food is weird and there's not enough sauce served with the food - only tomato sauce! Germans cover everything they eat with gravies, cheese and white sauces, so the unsauced kiwi cuisine comes as a shock to them!

If you're in NZ, I would strongly recommend getting to a stadium to watch some highly entertaining sport and cheer on these young sportswomen.

If you're not in NZ, FIFA is showing highlight packages on their tournament website, minutes after the completion of each game, as well as showing live coverage in some countries.

The final 8 has been decided and the business end of the tournament commences this week with the final to be played on November 16th.

At last - some sport about which we're excited!

The Iceland Sagas

Who knew that the word Saga comes from the Icelandic language? Who, other than Icelanders and those already in the know! Thus, my above encompassing title for our Icelandic blog posts is very appropriate.

Click on the images to enlarge

In this summary post you'll find links to accounts of our experiences in Iceland over 2 weeks at the beginning of August 2008.


The first chapter is scene-setting, with the posts after that getting pictorially more interesting as I start to write about some of the sights that we saw and the things that we did.


We started off in Reykjavik where we spent 4 days visiting places including the Blue Lagoon, Strokkur Geyser, several waterfalls and a glacier, Vik and Þingvellir (Thingvellir).

We then flew up to the West Fjörds, landing in Ísafjörður (Isafjorthur), overnighting in Bolungarvik and then over to the most remote part of Iceland to a place called Hesteyri for 8 days of superb hiking and sight-seeing.

The images get more interesting as we go along, as the West Fjörds were truly beautiful.

Posts are as follows:

Written while in Iceland
~ Eating Puffins
~ Ambitions
~ So What?


Written after returning to Berlin - the full story!
~ Chapter 01: Getting to Reykjavik
~ Chapter 02: Rekjavik and the Blue Lagoon
~ Chapter 03: Renting a Car
~ Chapter 04: Strokkur Geyser
~ Chapter 05: Gullfoss
~ Chapter 06: Þingvellir National Park
~ Chapter 07: Seljalandsfoss
~ Chapter 08: Skógafoss, Mýrdalsjökull and Vik
~ Chapter 09: Leaving Reykjavik for Ísafjörður
~ Chapter 10: QE2 and Bolungarvik
~ Chapter 11: Preparing for Hesteyri and the ferry ride
~ Chapter 12: Hesteyri History
~ Chapter 13: Our first hike
~ Chapter 14: Our Private Cod War
~ Chapter 15: Some Icelandic Flora
~ Chapter 16: A Walk along Hesteyrarfjörður
~ Chapter 17: Vistas and Moods of Hesteyrarfjörður
~ Chapter 18: Our second hike
~ Chapter 19: Four Hesteyri Summer Residents
~ Chapter 20: Visiting the old whaling station at Stekkeyri
~ Chapter 21: Goodbye to Hesteyri and a night in Bolungarvik
~ Chapter 22: Ísafjörður and walking back to Bolungarvik
~ Chapter 23: Goodbye to Iceland

Enjoy!

If you're thinking about visiting Iceland and want to contact us for information, you can do so through the "Email us!" link in this blog's side column.

Chapter 23: Goodbye Iceland

Continued from Chapter 22

This was our last full day in Iceland.

Our shuttle picked us up from Sosa's Apartments in Bolungarvik and transported us to the Ísafjörður Airport for our 9:15am flight back to Reykjavik.

Ísafjörður Airport

The regional airports in Iceland are very relaxed affairs and it was wonderful to be treated as humans again instead of sheep being screamed at by officious X-Ray Inspection staff, as in other airports around the world. There was no security, and when our aircraft was ready to depart, we walked about 30m from the terminal to the plane which then wasted no time in taking off once we had boarded.

40 mins later, we were back in cloudy and grey Reykjavik. As our Germany flight was early the following morning, we had opted to stay in a hotel in Keflavik for the night as it was closer to the international airport.

The easiest way to get between Reykjavik and Keflavik is on the airport shuttle bus, so we taxiied to the BSI Tourist Bus Terminal, caught the bus to the international airport and then got a taxi from the airport to the hotel in Keflavik township.

We stayed at the Iceland Air Flughotel in Keflavik. Most hotels in Iceland are owned and run by Iceland Air. Thankfully our rooms were ready even though we were checking in before the usual time. For €350 we had 2 connecting rooms. Gulp. The rooms were not huge and we wouldn't have liked to have stayed any longer than a night as there was not much room around the beds or places to store luggage without tripping over it. Plus, the rooms were uncomfortably hot - even with the heating off.

We decided to head to the Blue Lagoon to soak away the afternoon. The bus picked us up outside the hotel and less than 30 minutes later, we were basking in the warm water again, reflecting on our last 2 weeks in Iceland.

Back for another soak

The boys ham it up

Menacing clouds over the Blue Lagoon

Back at the hotel, we quickly assessed that there wasn't much around the vicinity in the way of restaurants, so we raided the closest supermarket for a roasted chicken and bread for dinner, as well as ordering a pizza from the local pizzeria.

The boys were exhausted, so they fell asleep very quickly. J did too, but I couldn't settle easily until falling asleep sometime after midnight.

At 6am, we were in a taxi on the way to the airport which was chaotic at that time of morning. We joined the end of a very long queue at the Iceland Air check-in which, to our delight moved quite quickly. We soon found out why - the check-in staff were extremely competent and efficiently processed our luggage and supplied us with boarding cards.

Up to Security where the first check was for passports and boarding cards and then we were in the queue for X-ray. Again, we moved though without delay aided by the friendly security staff. All too soon, we were in the departure area where we had about an hour to kill before our flight boarded.

Keflavik Airport is as relaxed as an international airport can be. We didn't even have to clear immigration.

Boarding our Iceland Air plane, the kids were delighted to find that we were flying back in an aircraft which had received an upgrade to its entertainment system, and we each had individual screens with movies, music and games. That kept them occupied while J and I managed to sleep most of the way home!

Iceland in Retrospect
It is an expensive country to visit, and I feel that the latest financial problems will not make that any better. Yes, airfares may be reduced and perhaps accommodation rates (hopefully), but food, beverages and transportation prices will remain high because it costs a lot for these items to be exported to Iceland.

Our costs would have been lower if we had avoided the main tourist season of June, July and August, but then we wouldn't been able to go to the north-western Hornstrandir area which is only accessible in these months. If we do go back, we would do so in April/May or September/October when the accommodation and car rental rates are much cheaper.

We would not return with the kids. Even though we had a great time with them at Hesteyri and some tourist amenities in Reykjavik were free for under-12s, it was still an expensive affair to take the boys with us; as well as less flexible. In a land where it remains light all though the night, getting the kids to bed at a reasonable hour was sometimes difficult. In the days where we had the rental car, J and I could have travelled further and for longer if we hadn't the boys' needs to also consider. We could also have chosen cheaper accommodation if we had not been travelling with the children.

We did have an amazing time in Iceland: saw some wonderful sights; met some truly genuine people; experienced some entertaining moments and very much enjoyed ourselves.


I would love to go back and see the eastern part of the island, as well as photograph at a different time of year when there is a different quality of light and some snow, but I think that I would have to do a major persuasion job on J to get her to go back with me!

Final Chapter: The Iceland Sagas - a link list to all our Icelandic posts

Chapter 22: Ísafjörður and walking back to Bolungarvik

Continued from Chapter 21

Click images to enlarge

By the time we had finished breakfast, we were kicking ourselves for not staying another night in Hesteyri and taking the evening ferry back to Ísafjörður as our friends C & F were doing. The Bolungarvik ferry had been arranged by J's friend before we had arrived in Iceland and, as we weren't familiar with the area or the ferry timings, we had gone along with the plans.

However, the apartment in Bolungarvik was costing us €240 for the 2 nights and it was annoying us that we had to spend another whole day and night in Bolungarvik, twiddling our thumbs until the next morning when our plane flew out of Ísafjörður. We were stuck - no transportation to go anywhere and if we did fly out a day earlier, we then had to find even more expensive accommodation in Reykjavik/Keflavik for an extra night. Damn!

When I had gone down to the wharf to photograph the boats the previous evening, I had also checked out the local bus service timetable between Bolungarvik and Ísafjörður. There were only 3 trips per day both ways, so we didn't have much choice.

After breakfast, the kids went fishing with the son of J's friend, so that got them out of our hair for the day. J and I decided to head into Ísafjörður for something to do - plus we had to stop at the Information Centre to arrange our early morning airport shuttle pick-up.

We caught the 1pm shuttle to Ísafjörður and 15 minutes later, we were at the Information Centre arranging the shuttle for the next morning. After doing that, we decided to walk around the town to see what we could find.

A brightly coloured building by the Information Centre

The inner fjörd with the main wharf area

Another cruise ship was in port. Smaller than the QE2, it was able to tie up at the wharf. From the accents that we heard from its passengers who were walking around town, the Silver Cloud was filled with Americans.

Silver Cloud at the wharf

By now we had managed to fill in an hour to reach 2:15pm. The shuttle bus back to Bolungarvik wasn't due to leave until 6pm. What the hell were we going to do for the next 3.75 hours?

Desperate people do desperate things. We decided to walk back to Bolungarvik.

It.was.only.15.kilometres.away.

The green line shows the 15km between Ísafjörður and Bolungarvik

We set off along the Óshlíd road, fighting a cold headwind the whole way. My feet, knees and right hip had not fully recovered from the Hesteyri hiking, so I was taking a battering. Still, it was better than trying to fill in time while waiting for the shuttle.

Along the way, we did see some pretty sights including a few waterfalls.

All that pure water cascading down the hill

We also saw a seal fishing off the rocks and there were quite a few birds to watch as well. Plus, we had to look out for vehicles which passed close to us as there was no footpath and we were walking on the side of the road. The cliffs towering above reminded us of our off-road adventures in Oman - albeit a lot greener than the Hajjar Mountains.

The rock faces were teeming with nesting birds

After 2.25 hours, we came around the corner to see the lighthouse, and behind it was Bolungarvik. At least we could now see our destination! We paused to take photos of the lighthouse which was very vivid against the blue sky.

The lighthouse with Bolungarvik just showing on the left

Highly visible - even with the light off!

As we passed the fishing village which is now a tourist attraction, we noticed this portable toilet on top of the cliff. To our amusement, it was tied down to 2 very heavy concrete slabs. We guess that it must get very windy at times!

Tie the toilet down!

Finally, we were back in Bolungarvik. The town's sign was great motivation to keep going, even though we knew that we still had a couple of kms to go. It was now 6pm.

Bolungarvik city limits

We detoured to the supermarket where we treated ourselves to ice creams before walking back to the apartment to put up our weary feet. Unfortunately the boys arrived home shortly after, demanding dinner. No rest for the walkers!

Next Chapter: Our last day and leaving Iceland

Chapter 21: Goodbye Hesteyri and Another Night in Bolungarvik

Continued from Chapter 20

Click images to enlarge

All too soon, our 8 days in Hesteyri were over and it was time to head back to Bolungarvik before flying back to Reykjavik a day later.

This time, a ferry was coming directly from Bolungarvik and taking us back there which saved having to drive the 15km from Ísafjörður to where we were staying.

The ferry arrives to pick us up

It was time to say goodbye to our new friends, C and F, before boarding the ferry. Time for a last group photo!

Great memories, good people and fun times

As the boat left the Hesteyrarfjörður at 6pm, from the stern I took one more image of Hesteyri.

Adieu Hesteyri - thanks for the wonderful 8 days

Soon, we had made our way back over the Isafjarðardjúp fjörd and had tied up at the Bolungarvik refilling wharf to unload all our gear. By the way, the ferry ride costs €100 each way for 2 adults and 2 kids!

Blatting back across the Isafjarðardjúp

As the transportation was being sorted out, I wandered over to the big fishing boat tied up on the other side of the wharf and shot off a few images of the Þorlákur. It was the biggest fishing vessel that I had seen in these waters.



Once we were ensconced in Sosa's Apartments (which are run by Birna's 2 daughters), we cooked dinner. As I washed up, out of the kitchen window I noticed that the light of the setting sun was a brilliant orange. I couldn't resist heading out to photograph it! Bundling up against the cold, I wandered back down to the wharf area.

Orange reflections

It was now 10:30pm. The mountains were catching the last of the sun's rays and this was being reflected in the relatively still water in the harbour. The fishing boats were tied up and motionless - their orange buoys and rescue floatation devices glowed in agreement with the sunlight.

The Day-glo orange equipment really stood out

I stood and photographed for about 15 minutes before the sun sank behind the mountains and it fell gloomy.

The smallest pirate ship with the biggest flag!

Walking back to the apartment, it was time for bed. We had a full day and another night to spend in Bolungarvik ahead of our flight, and we were really wondering how we were going to keep ourselves occupied!

Next Chapter: Ísafjörður and walking back to Bolungarvik